Love Contract
by Spirit of the Wind
Summary: To defend his straight reputation, Jadeite ends up pulling in broke Rei Brandon to star as his reluctant girlfriend of strictly 'contract' love. Of course, this like all things blows up in his face, coz the rules were just too easy to break. Jadeite/Rei
1. A Farewell

**Disclaimer:** ...don't own any of the Sailor Moon characters... T-T  
**Author's note:** Yes, I'm updating this too. This is so much easier to write than Arabian Knights... Formerly 'Marriage of Convenience'... Hope you like the changes... and the new title!

* * *

Taking a long drag, he casually crushed the remains of the cigarette under his heel. His parents both dying from lung cancer, his father from cigars and his mother from the second-hand fumes, he preferred not to smoke, but his current predicament warranted the exception. Shuffling his feet out of habit, he leaned back against the brick wall of the alley.

"James!"

The voice registered in his head, and, his heart skipping, he turned slowly to see his wife-turned-lesbian slipping into the gap between the bank and the flower shop. Tall, blonde… she was beautiful, even in baggy jeans and an oversized T-shirt that made her look like an adolescent boy. He realized that she had cut off her thick waist-length hair, opting for a style similar to his own.

"Hey, James." Her voice was faint to his ears.

"Helen."

Her smile faltered slightly at his cool tone, and she glanced down at her sneakers. They were asking for a wash. "I-I just want to say that… I'm sorry."

His icy façade wavered for a moment. She sounded so small and pathetic and… uncharacteristic, and it made him uncomfortable that such a proud spirit was reduced to this when around him. He reached for her. "Helen…"

She held up a hand. "It's all right, James, I'm bad at this too." She bit her lip. "I just want to say that, I'm sorry you've had to be… to be married to a lie for the last two years."

Shocked, he blurted out, "A lie? Helen, is that want you think? No! I mean, I'm really glad to have known you. I don't regret anything." _Apart from the fact that you are…_

She seemed to let out the breath she had been holding. "Thank god. I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I mean, I thought it was just a phase. Then you found out before I could tell you and everything just got in such a mess…"

She was babbling again. Breathing deeply, he forced a smile. She seemed so happy and relieved that he couldn't even pretend to be angry. Quietly, he felt a little jealous that she could be so carefree when she was with Michelle, but never, really, when with him. He must have been staring into space, for Helen stuck her hand in front his face, as she always did when he drifted off. "James?"

The gold band on her finger caught his eye. Swallowing, he grasped her hand, tugging at the ring. "I guess I'll be taking this then."

It slid off easily, and she smiled, a little embarrassed. Leaning forward, she kissed him gently. He tasted the farewell on her lips, and a sorrowful regret she couldn't quite voice. He returned it hungrily.

Then she gone, off on her trip to the Greek Islands with her girlfriend, and he was once more became the outsider, gazing in on a perfect world that would never include him.

* * *

Stepping into his agent's floor, James Curran, known professionally as Jadeite, knew, by the vibes alone, that something wasn't right. For one, his agent, the greatest sweet-tooth to have conquered the known world (but still surprising slender), _the_ Zeke Larence, was drinking black coffee. Another, that timid mouse of a secretary was wearing a… _thong_? He checked again – the computer nerd had finally proposed to the brunette bimbo, who'd shockingly agreed; the pervert wasn't downloading porn _or _hitting on the ladies; and both the vending machine _and _the water cooler weren't out of order. Something was very decidedly wrong.

Zeke glanced up as he strode in, his green eyes dead serious and his face deadpan. Dropping his newspaper and folding his hands together, he asked in a quiet, very un-Zeke-like voice – "Where have you been?"

James stared, finally losing it. "What the heck? Where the he- Where's Zeke?" He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "I leave you guys for a month and this is what happens? Have you all gone insane?"

His copper-haired agent arched an eyebrow. "Was that Italian vineyard of yours so far in the country that you don't even receive the 'NYWhisper'?" He wondered out loud, referring to the tabloid notorious for its scandalous and often true stories regarding the famous of the famous of the famous around the country.

He ignored the derogatory remark. "It's a _French_ vineyard, for the ninety-eighth time. And it's not mine, it's my sister's."

He threw up his hands in reflex, just in time to catch the wad of glossy paper hurtling towards his face. For a seemingly complete dimwit, Zeke had a killer aim. "No wonder I couldn't find you. Damn… so it was France was it?" He bent down to rummage through his filing cabinets. "Your sister's married name is… van Dyk? You never told me your sister married a Dutch? Those people are so nationalistic… What's she doing in France anyway?"

"W-What's… _this_?"

Zeke peered innocently at him from under the table. "What's what?"

"_This_." He jabbed a finger at the cover story. Featured prominently was a blown up photo of his farewell kiss to Helen. He let out a long suppressed growl of frustration. "Gods, no one can get any damn privacy anymore, can they? I kiss my divorced wife-turned-lesbian goodbye and the godforsaken media manages to twist it into a cover story featuring me as _gay_?"

His agent replied slowly, as if addressing a child, "James dear, you're a celebrity. Celebrities never have any privacy." He waves a dismissive hand at the magazine. "That happens all the time, by the way. Get over yourself."

Cerulean eyes narrowed in irritation. "When's the press conference?"

Zeke blinked. "Oh, I cancelled that." He ducked under the table again for his documents, but also mainly for the preservation of his head from his client's ash-inducing glare. "What are you glaring at me for? This came out three and a half weeks ago, I could hardly wait around for you to appear; anyway, the media's already moved on, to Blanche Chalette's thirteenth wedding, in fact. Anyhow, it's good publicity."

James collapsed into a nearby chair in unadulterated shock. "Good publicity? _Good publicity_?Don't you understand? I have a reputation to consider!"

"A reputation? For heaven's sake James, grow up; you're an actor, not a pageant queen. Not that you would win, even if you did enter a pageant," he muttered, mostly to himself as he dropped back in his seat. "Being gay's not that much of a big deal anymore, so you might as well live with it." He eyed the blonde's prone form. "Besides, it's not as if you'll be celibate for the rest of your life. The public will catch on soon. Now go back to that penthouse of yours and get some sleep."

Stiffly, James stood, his face blank (as in, _brain-washed_ blank…), making for the door and instinctively, as far away from the madman he'd paid to control his affairs as physically possible.

"Oh, I almost forgot!"

The actor paused again. "_What now?_"

"You get an extended break from movies, for now." Zeke opened his paper again. "You failed the auditions for _White Snake_ and _A Day in the Life of a Heterosexual_."

James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Weren't those parts _written_ for me?"

Nonchalantly, Zeke sipped his coffee, "Well yes… But the female leads, whose parts were written for them too, happened to be Catholic and Jewish respectively."

He whirled around, frustrated. "I thought you said this rumour was for good publicity."

"Well… They did wait a few days for the press conference announcing your straightness… but you didn't turn up so… they assumed the rumours were true. It is the NYWhisper, you know."

Satisfied, Zeke turned the page, frowning at the rainy forecast for Monday, and settled deeply into his chair.

* * *

**Feedback is appreciated!**

* * *


	2. A Reunion

**Disclaimer:** ...see chapter 1...  
**Author's note:** Please read chapter 1 if you haven't so already. It's all revised and ready to go! And don't forget the reviews!

* * *

The man, dressed casually with a white lab coat draped over his shoulders, eyed the tall figure turning out of Room 784. Waist-length dark hair bound carelessly with a rubber band and simple outfit that obviously wasn't the product of careful mix and match, she stood out from the crowd of middle-aged couples clamouring to visit their accident-prone spawn. He'd noticed that she came often, always bearing purple orchids and leaving sombre and impassive.

Beckoning to a passing nurse for the records of the patient in aforementioned room, he scanned them quickly as he made his way to the surgery briefing. _Howard Brandon…aged 78_. It sounded remotely familiar. Sidestepping the approaching lunch trolley, he wracked his brains. It _did_ sound familiar… A pair of small pale hands clapped over his widening eyes and he stopped dead in the corridor. "Bunny, is that you again?"

The young nurse giggled lightly, before skipping in front of him and pouting cutely. "It's not Bunny anymore." She flashed him her new ID card. "My name is now Serenity Moon. I just got it changed by deed poll."

The bewildered doctor arched an eyebrow. "Whatever… Bunny. Go back to your department or Darien will have my head."

She, ignoring him, sobered good-naturedly at his teasing. "Watcha readin'?"

He kept his eyes glued to the report. "A report on a Mr. Howard Brandon, Room 784."

She cocked her head to the side, not the least tired keeping up with him. "Oh, him, poor dude; I know his granddaughter."

He glanced shortly at her. "You do?"

"Yeah. She was in some of my classes in high school. Very nice person; terrible temper though. And she hated guys."

"She's lesbian?"

"No! I mean, she didn't trust guys. Don't blame her though… her dad ran out with her brother when she was three."

He paused in mid-stride, "And her mother? What did she do?"

Bunny/Serenity shrugged. "I think they ran a Shinto shrine; Reine's mom was half-Japanese."

"_Was?_"

"Yeah… Her mom passed on when she was in university."

A frown crossed the doctor's face, and the nurse looked up worriedly. "Why are you so interested? Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head slowly, continuing down the hallway. "No, not really. I was just wondering just how she was managing to pay the hospital bills." He held out the report. "Mr. Brandon was admitted into the emergency department almost two years ago with an acute stroke, from which he lapsed into a coma."

"Two years ago!" Her hands flew to her mouth. "Poor Reine… She-"

"Dr. Arnold!"

He whipped around comically to see the petite and peculiarly blue-haired senior surgeon leaning, arms crossed, against a nearby door jamb, her eyes narrowed. "Dr. Arnold! The briefing is nearly over, the coronary artery bypass surgery is about to begin, and you're chatting away with a nurse. You're going to cost our poor patient her life!"

He glanced back apologetically at Bunny/Serenity as he jogged towards the surgery department after his superior. Waving enthusiastically, the grin melted from her face as she bent down to pick up the report Dr. Arnold had dropped. _Poor Rei…_ at this, she smiled wryly. That Brandon girl would probably chew her head off if she found her feeling the least sympathetic towards her. Rei never wanted anyone to feel sorry about her.

But still… she felt that she should help, at least, a little.

* * *

Walking stiffly down the road towards the shrine, Reine Brandon suddenly sneezed, surprising herself out of her trance. Absently, she hoped the nurses weren't gossiping about her at the hospital she visited _far_ too often. She'd noticed that her childhood friend Serena now worked there as part of the nursing staff, but had been reluctant to approach her. She shuddered even to remember that disastrous meeting with her father's family. Naively, she'd thought that maybe the business tycoons would like to know about her grandfather's condition, but typical of businessmen, they'd assumed she'd come for the money, and had told her rather bluntly that they weren't one of those godforsaken charities. And later, she'd told _herself_ that she'd never do something so stupid ever again.

Secretly she knew Sere wouldn't be as crass as to suggest something like that, but Reine supposed she was so jaded now she'd probably be very poor company anyway.

Pausing to let a mother and her triplets pass her, she was turning to mount the never ending steps that led to her humble abode when she was rammed hard in the side by the last blonde klutz she thought she'd ever see again. "Se-Serena?"

The short girl, a light jacket thrown over the top of her white uniform, doubled over to catch her breath, grinning ruefully. "S-Sorry about that… I just didn't want to-to have to run up those _stairs_… too…"

As if remembering something, she peered up shyly at the unmoving figure of her former classmate. "Rei? You're not… _angry_, are you? Rei?"

Reine's face was a mask of bewilderment. "W-What are _you_ doing here?"

Serena smiled winningly, then sobered. "I… I just wanted to… _express condolences_… concerning your granddad, that is," she finished lamely, shuffling her feet.

The dark-haired girl raised a cynical eyebrow. "Big words, Sere. Wher_ever_ did you learn them?" Before turning on her heel and heading up to the shrine.

Her stricken friend rushed after her. "No Rei, it's not like that. I mean don't worry, I don't sympathise you. No-" She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand in frustration, almost tripping over her feet at the same time. "That wasn't what I meant. I meant, I _do_ sympathise you, but I wasn't supposed to say that. I mean, you don't like sympathy, right? So I won't sympathise you, but I will in secret… Urgh! How come this works in the movies but never with me?!"

Struggling to contain her overflowing emotions – that klutz Serena would go to such lengths to renew their friendship – but mostly her laughter, Reine unlocked and yanked open the door to her house. "Stop talking, Serena, and get in here."

And for once, she ignored that annoying squeal and invited her long estranged friend into her home.

* * *

"Well, Ami's a senior at our hospital. She graduated early, and now she's the darling of the surgery department. And Lita, she opened that bakery she'd always wanted, but get this. She decided it wasn't for her so she sold it became a chef at the 'Kingfisher'! Isn't that great?"

Reine smiled out the corner of her mouth as she opened the bag of cookies, making sure to hide the shortbread ones, before offering them to the sweet-tooth fairy incarnate. Digging into them, the blonde asked the winning question. "So, what do you do now, Rei?"

Shoulders sagging visibly, Reine sank into a chair, propping her elbows on the table. "Well, you know. The odd job here and there…"

Serena paused in her munching. "Rei…"

The dark-haired girl shot her a glare. "_Don't_ say you're sorry, please."

Swallowing, she protested. "But Rei! Didn't you always want to be a designer? You have the qualifications; what happened?"

She shrugged, staring down at her hands. "I guess I grew up. And the money ran out."

But Serena was uncharacteristically persistent. "Listen. I have the perfect opportunity for you to get started up again. Look, I'm getting married so-"

Reine's head shot up, her mauve eyes widening. "What the heck? When? Why didn't you tell me? Who's the poor gu- I mean, lucky groom?"

The blonde smiled wistfully. "Darien, of course. He's just gotten a position as associate professor in- Hey! Don't change the subject!" She glared playfully. "Anyway, I'd like you to be my wedding planner."

Violet eyes narrowed sceptically. "Wedding planner? Me? Look, I appreciate the thought, but I haven't so much as picked up a pencil in the last eight months, so I don't think-"

"Don't think then!" A determined Serena declared. "I remember your designs from high school; they were absolutely gorgeous. This is just a very strategic position for both of us. I'll have a one-of-a-kind wedding, and you'll get introduced into the industry. We're inviting Mina and that horde of celebrities that we've gotten to know, so it's the perfect opportunity for you! Come on, say yes!"

_When did Serena become so thoughtful?_ Sufficiently embarrassed from this unexpected praise, touched, and on the verge of agreeing, Reine suddenly remembered her father's relatives. "I wouldn't want to be a charity case."

"What? Nonsense! What made you think that? I love your work, and I'm sure others will too. Please don't think such rubbish for once, and just say yes!"

Looking at Serena's hopeful expression, she felt a pang in her chest, a pang that reminded her of that long missed blissfulness of knowing you were loved. Alone from the moment her grandfather fell into his coma, she had almost forgotten that deep emotion all humans unconsciously craved. And now, Sere was pouring it over her in great heaping amounts… Feeling the lump rising in her throat, she threw her arms around a very shocked bride-to-be, tears streaming from her eyes. "Thank you, Serena. _Thank you so much!_"

* * *

Feedback greatly appreciated!


	3. A Meeting

**Disclaimer: **...see chapter 1...  
**Author's note:** Thank you everybody who reviewed! You guys rock! And the 60-something people who didn't... -. -.

* * *

If James was trying to garner up sympathy for his cause by sitting his mates from college down one by one and spilling out his sob story, he was sorely failing. His current victi- confidant, one decidedly bored Nicolas Aster sitting opposite him, would have left, except that watching Darien choose a tux, or his little fiancée choose the 'perfect dress' was unquestionably much worse. "…and you know what that Z said? That it was _good publicity_! Good publicity, damn it! It's my reputation we're talking about and he can only think about good publicity?"

Not for the first time that afternoon, Nick heaved a sigh of irritation. "Yay… great, whatever… what's this got to do with me again?"

James ran a hand through his hair. "Aw, come on man! You're a psychologist; don't you have any tips for me?"

His friend eyed him warily. "The only tip I have for you is that you should go to the nearest mental ward now, and _stay _there."

"Not likely to work. I mean in terms of speech, dress… I don't really _look_ gay, do I?"

He was sure the blonde didn't get that last comment. "People were still convinced you were straight after you played Cinderella in junior high. This is media bullshit. I can't see why you're so worked up about it."

The blonde winced at the unnecessary trip down memory lane. "That was because I was the only blonde in the class! Look, I lost two movies because of this. _Two movies!_ I haven't lost a single movie since _Perfectly Clueless_!"

Nick buried his face in his hands in exasperation. As close as they were, James' colossal ego had always been hacking at his nerves. Even knowing that this façade was there for the sole purpose of hiding his true, quiet nature didn't make it easier on the ears. "If it'll make you feel any better, just get a girlfriend." He held up a hand to halt the protests. "I know getting a girlfriend won't necessarily dispel the rumours, but it's a start." Secretly, he just wanted the blonde to shut up.

No such luck. "No way! Girls are forever after my cash; I am so sick of it."

The brunet cracked open an eye. "You're just paranoid again, after those series of events with Angie. Come to think of it, I don't think you've ever had a proper relationship after her. Look how Helen turned out."

James sobered, a little too quickly for comfort, and Nick knew he'd struck a nerve. "Look, I know you're still sensitive about her and all, but-"

"No. Please Nick, just stop." This hushed exclamation seemed so much louder than his previous complaints, that the brunet felt guilty for bringing it up. He almost, _almost_ wished for the obnoxious Jadeite, the savvy actor, the smooth-talker, and not the broken child that was James Tristan Curran. Even as a shrink, the psyche of his best friend was still very much a mystery to him, and he wanted to kick himself. The mind was in such a delicate balance, especially for the man sitting mutely opposite him, and he'd abused it in such a thoughtless, careless way. He glanced up slowly, heaving a sigh. He knew the blonde would never begrudge him – he'd always been a 'talk first, think later' sort of guy, but it didn't make him feel any better.

Sitting there in uncomfortable silence, he was certainly glad when Darien's bride-to-be, a tiny wisp of a thing on high heels, stumbled up to them, a grin splitting her face. _She must have found that dream dress of hers…_ "Nick! James!" She peered around them. "No Dar-bear yet? Gosh, he takes longer than _me_!"

"And that's saying something," came a distant, laboured voice from behind her, and Serena whipped around comically, hands cupped over her mouth in horror. "Rei sweetie- I can't believe I forgot you! Let me help you with that…" And she disappeared again, presumably to help her friend with the products of their shopping.

A low whistle had Nick turning to see that James was once again under the cloak of Jadeite, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched the two women round the corner. "Who's the dark-haired little thing? I've never seen her before."

The brunet looked for himself, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Isn't that Reine? When did she turn up again?"

"You know her? Aw, how come you know all the hot chicks...?"

The tall man settled back into his seat. "She went to high school with us. She was part of Sere's little group."

But he wasn't listening His glance traced appreciatively the rounded, if somewhat slender curves hidden modestly beneath a crimson, three-quarter-length-sleeved blouse and black jeans. His gaze slid further north, to stare suddenly into deep mauve eyes, and he barely stopped himself from sucking in a breath of surprise. _Purple eyes,_ he thought absently, _are those contacts?_ She blinked, and he travelled down her face, her straight, petite nose, her full lips, her smooth, pale complexion. Unknowingly transfixed, he watched those lips quirk at something the blonde whispered, and he wondered what they'd look like smiling, laughing. She turned to present her profile, and he saw that the black, black hair grew almost to her thighs. And he wondered-

"No, James." He blinked as Nick's baritone rang in his ears. "You don't stand a chance with her. She's got her own personal vendetta towards men."

He snorted then, running a finger under his nose and spluttering in self defence, "What makes you think I even _want_ a chance?"

His friend smiled smugly. "Gut feeling. And a psychologist's six year training, naturally."

* * *

Reine's heart leapt as she remembered the familiar face. Out of Darien, Kyle, Nicolas and Zach, the only men she'd ever trusted, Nicolas had always been the one she held her debates with during high school – her girl friends were never interested, with the exception of Ami who always overthrew her theories with that extensive knowledge of philosophical debate; and she smiled fondly as she recalled his quick wit and open laughter. She'd missed their arguments.

She noticed another man sitting in the seat shielded by a pot plant, and wondered briefly if he was… Zach? The other genius at the campus who was clearly Ami's counterpart when it came to intelligence. Serena wrenched suddenly at the paper bag they were holding together, compromising the rest of her load, and she moved to regain her balance. Clumsily, they stumbled their way over to the men, before dropping the clothes and shoes into a heap at their feet. The blonde energiser bunny recovered the fastest; she plucked at Nicolas' sleeve. "Nicky, remember Rei? Remember?" She sounded so much like an excited child Reine could only smile.

A smirk quirked at his thin lips as his eyes lighted upon her. "You finally turned up, did you? Where have you been?" He got to his feet, and she realized he now towered over her, even more so than before.

Serena grinned. "I found her at the hosp- I mean, at the shrine," she amended effortlessly, casting a sidelong glance her way. "She's my wedding planner!"

He planted his hands at his hips. "Then we've got a wonderful wedding to look forward to, don't we?" He praised indirectly, and she smiled down at her feet, unused to the attention.

Nick, surprised at her silence, but sensing that she was uncomfortable, decided to introduce the idiot so she could work that fiery tongue of hers back into shape. "Rei let me introduce James Curran. He's a client of Zach's and-"

He was interrupted by a squeal from Serena. "Jaaaaaaaadeite!" She turned back to the psychologist. "Nick, I can't believe you didn't introduce us sooner! He's…"

Reine turned slowly, not really listening. _So… that _hadn't_ been Zach…_ _but _Jadeite_ was it…? Is that what Sere meant when she said 'horde of celebrities'?_ _Too bad I'm not really into romantic crime…_

The blonde man grinned, a roguish sparkle in his blue eyes. "Nice to meet you too, but you can stop staring at me now."

Snapping out of a trance she didn't know she had fallen into, she felt a frown touching upon her brow. Such a simple phrase, yet it brought back all the memories of those egotistical men she hated. Men who knew they were good-looking, and assumed everyone would think so too and worship them. Men who were charismatic, and used that charisma to their greatest advantage manipulating others. Men like her father.

"As if," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I was only thinking about how disappointed I was that it was _you_ here and not Zach."

And she whirled around, catching Serena's hand as she made off to look for Darien, disappearing in a blur of red.

Nick, highly amused and very self-satisfied turned to face James, whose jaw seemed very comfortable resting against the marble tiled floor. Yes, Rei was back with a vengeance.

* * *

Feedback is appreciated!


	4. A Revelation

**Disclaimer:** ...see chapter 1...

* * *

The silver Volkswagen beetle driving down the road was a dime in a dozen, but Carmen was like that. She preferred to stand out on the world stage of movie theatre or the Paris catwalk, and not the streets of New York City. She had always laughed at the overloaded teenagers, Porsche convertibles cruising past the buildings, Mohawks bobbing to the latest techno number. They looked like complete idiots.

Pulling into a parking space, she walked swiftly, completely comfortable in three-and-a-half inch heels, into the tall building to make an unexpected guest of herself. Arranging sunglasses atop her golden hair, she smiled brightly, highly anticipating the impending reunion with a high school classmate. Flinging open glass doors without so much as a knock, she peered over tops of heads and past slack jaws to see a slim long-haired man about to help himself to some coffee. "Oi! Zach!"

His head whipped around so fast she was surprised he didn't get whiplash. Or spill his coffee. She watched in amusement, long legs closing the distance, as his familiar green eyes widened at the sight of her, then narrowed. "Aw… Zachy… aren't you happy to see me?"

She gasped as his hand closed on her forearm, dragging her behind him into his office. She straightened herself, pouting as he closed the door loudly. "Za-"

"Mi_-na!_" He whirled around almost nervously, back pressed against the wood. "I told you before, not in the workplace!"

But Mina, as she was nick-named, was determined to have her fun. "I can't see why you're so wound up. Zach's a perfectly ni-"

"_Shh!_ They'll hear you, idiot!" His eyes darted from corner to corner.

"Fine, be that way, _Zeke Larence_." She made herself at home in his seat. Elbows on the desk and hands clasped, she leaned forward, disturbingly like her role from that detective movie. Eyebrows, however, wiggled suggestively. "So… _Zeke_… Lowering yourself to this level; is it or is it not because you're afraid of a certain little doctor becoming aware of your current occupation? Hm?"

He ran a hand through his copper hair. "Mina, I told you before, it has… _nothing_ to do with… that."

She almost laughed. The man couldn't lie to save his life. Or keep an unrequited love secret. "Are you sure? I'm sure that blue-haired sprite will have a field day if she found out all her years of trying to outsmart you were wasted, now that Zachary Lamont is _the_ Zeke Larence behind Jadeite, and Blanche, and Regina, and Freesia…"

The blonde eyed her warily. "Mina…"

Giggling openly, she jumped up from his chair. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I was just having some fun for the first time in the last three months. Surely you could have indulged me just a little?"

Zach, exasperated, sank into the leather. "Stop quoting your movies. And that cruise in New Zealand, wasn't that… _fun_ for a million dollar ferry trip half-way across the world? At all?"

"Oh, sure! But lying on the deck reading books upside down for God knows how long does tend to lose its appeal after three days. Besides, I _am_ here for something other than taking ten years off your healthy young life."

He slumped down wearily. "Pray, do get to the point. And please, try to shorten your sentences."

Ignoring him, she planted her hands on his desk, various necklaces and pendants swinging in his face. Luckily she wore a turtle-neck today… _Kyle would have murdered me_, he shuddered inwardly. "I have a proposition to make, one concerning our little 'gay' friend here…" as she slapped her newly purchased copy of NYWhisper before the agent.

He didn't even need to glance down to know that Jadeite's face was pasted all over the glossy cover.

* * *

Strolling into his penthouse, James collapsed on his couch, heaving a sigh as his hands folded behind his head. He realised then ironically that indeed, acting was the occupation for him. _I was born to act!_ He suddenly remembered his bold statement to the sceptical judges at the entrance exam to Juilliard. He smiled wryly. Yes, but to live an act?

Actually, even after making such a big fuss, he didn't really blame the media for being able to so easily twist his sexual orientation in the eyes of the public. He didn't associate himself with women, let alone participate in a long term relationship. And the one time he felt confident enough to ask _the_ question, it turned out she had been lying for two years. He didn't blame Nick either for losing his control. He really had been a hell of a pain, whining and carrying on about nothing.

Then why in the name of the heavens had he reacted so strongly to Serena's wedding planner? He was done with women! In fact, he was supposed to hate them with a passion; hadn't he been hurt enough? Or maybe he was just masochistic. There was no other explanation. He was simply _in love_ with the idea of hurting himself.

Even so, that Reine girl was hardly his type, he frowned. Dark haired, dark eyed; maybe Hispanic if not for the pale complexion and hint of almond eyes. The simpering girlfriends in high school, Helen… _her_… they'd all been classic blonde beauties.

He wondered why his mind still lingered on her. There was nothing striking about her features, her form, save those flashing violet eyes. If anything, she was a little too skinny for his tastes, and a little too short. Then _why_? _Why_ did her smile tug at his vision, her voice ring in his ears? There was something different about her, something other than her colouring that made her stand out from the rest of the women.

Sitting up abruptly, it hit him. Something so obvious he couldn't believe he'd missed it. She hadn't squealed. She hadn't even so much as smiled. She'd instead thrown his Jadeite wit back in his face. Disappointed that he wasn't Zach, indeed. The thought left him stunned. He slumped back down, wry smile twitching at his lips. It was about time someone like that showed up in real life.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You want to _model_ the poor man?!" Fingertips pressed against his forehead, Zach squeezed his eyes shut.

Mina rolled her eyes. "Come on, it's not _that_ shocking. He has the face and the body. The Light brothers asked _specifically_ for him; they have this royal theme on the drawing board, all golds and silvers and purples, and apparently, picky, picky Yale decided _James'_ hair was the _perfect_ shade." She shook her waist-length mane in mock exasperation, singling out the platinum-blonde youngest brother of the famous designer trio, who was notorious for his super high standards.

Zach frowned, leaning back and crossing his arms. "It's not that. They want to _what_? Set him up with one of their sisters in return? Why would they do that? What's it got to do with anything?"

Mina twirled a pen around her fingers nonchalantly. "_I _suggested that. It's the perfect opportunity for James to establish some contact, or even a relationship, with a girl who _isn't_, for once, after his money. I'm talking about the _real_ James, by the way." She glanced at the agent, lips twitching at his stunned expression, knowing that he didn't know she knew. "He's a good actor, but not good enough. I _did_ realise he created a whole personality to hide behind." She snorted in pale humour. "That snobby rich boy named Jadeite. It's kind of hard not to notice."

Smiling vanishing from her face, she felt suddenly cold. Cold that something like this could happen to _James_ of all people, the most positive, down-to-earth guy in that horde of pretty-boy wannabes at Juilliard. He had glowed then, his laughter, his openness so infectious it radiated an aura about him. She wanted so badly to bring that man back, to see him genuinely, truly _smile_ again, like he always did before… _her_. That Angie girl.

"You people. I'll never understand your twisted reasoning." Thankfully, Zach chose this moment to stop her straying train of thought. "For heaven's sake, it isn't as if being gay is a crime. I say we just let it blow over." He was still lingering on the media misunderstanding.

"James? Blow over? Not a chance. And you're missing the point." Her eyebrows were raised. She hadn't realised her friend was so clueless. "You know he'll never get with another woman after what's happened. His entire personality _changed,_ Zach. He locked himself up for God knows how long." She clasped her hands around her arms, her voice softening. "Zach, I'm scared. I thought Helen would open him again, but I was wrong. I'm scared he'll never come out again."

Her blue eyes searched tired green ones. "He is still such a little boy, stuck in that grown-up body. I think-"

But Zach held up a hand, stopping her. "Mina, I know you care. You two have been through a lot together. I'm concerned about him myself. But you've got it wrong. Finding jobs and girlfriends for him won't help. Maybe the public will eventually be convinced he's straight, but so what? James has never really cared what the public thinks anyway."

"At least he will have some human contact! Get out of his suite for once to, you know, _mingle_." Mina hissed fiercely. The stupid man still didn't get it. "He has to learn to trust women again. And _not_ because of that gay situation, get that into your head! Because he needs love eventually, as cliché as it sounds. A partner." She turned her back on him. "And we know we can trust the Light sister to be a good start. We can trust that she won't be a gold digger, or a two-faced whore, or something despicable like that. It's the best possible beginning for James: an arranged girlfriend, if you like."

Zach rubbed a hand over his eyes. "So you want him to accept the modelling job because a temporary girlfriend who will help set him on the road to recovery, so you say, will come out of the deal? Okay, suppose this does work. Just _how_ are you going to convince him of this? Hm?"

"I don't know! I haven't thought that far ahead yet, but I'll think of something…"

* * *

A tall figure stood outside the closed office door, hand poised above the knob. His blue eyes were stunned wide. For a moment, it seemed as if he would go in, but he retracted his arm, stepping back a little, mouth still slightly slack in shock. He felt a sudden hotness blur his vision, but he ignored the tear rolling down his cheek as he noiselessly backed out of the room, employees having long left for lunch. His large feet expertly avoiding the bits of squeaky floor.

Silently disappearing beyond the glass doors, he slowly let the mask of Jadeite slip over his stricken features, as the afternoon sun played over his impassiveness from over the tops of the towering buildings.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the lateness… writer's block is a chronic disorder of mine. This chapter is a bit of a filler, where all the small things start to come together. Hope it wasn't too confusing. And I hope you enjoyed it. Bet you're all wondering who Angie is**

**And so, same as always, feedback is appreciated.**

**See you soon!**


End file.
